


The Magician Longs to See

by GreyPigeon



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Angst, Blood and Gore, Drabbles, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Horror, Hurt/Comfort, Imprisonment, M/M, Mad!Maruki Fury Road, Mobkita, Psychedelic themes, Sexual Content, Torture, Whump, Whumptober 2020, Yusuke Kitagawa whump, check the tags before each chapter please!, physical violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:07:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26840386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreyPigeon/pseuds/GreyPigeon
Summary: The PT had accepted Maruki’s reality. 5 years later, overburdened with humanity’s wishes, the Good Doctor goes mad, while the perfect reality bursts like a soap bubble. Everyone scatters in shock, unable to cope without their fulfilled dreams and happy lives they had gotten so used to. Joker decides to confront Maruki. Instead of granting wishes, he crafts nightmares now, lurking in his horrendous lab in Odaiba; he imprisons Ren in the depths of his research facility. The PT have to get it together and come to the rescue…
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Amamiya Ren/Kitagawa Yusuke, Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira/Kitagawa Yusuke
Comments: 12
Kudos: 14





	1. Atrium Vid 000.1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a stressful month for me so I'm going to need a buffer zone and booooy THIS IS IT,
> 
> Whumptober 2020, because I'm scandalous like that, the prompts will not be chronological and I do not aim for completionist because it would be too much work for me with other wips, work and real life on top of it, but it doesn't mean we cannot have at least *some* fun, right? Prompts of the day will be placed before each chapter, so make sure you know what you’re getting yourselves into. Also I may use the prompts from the alt list if they strike my fancy. Have an idea? Have a request? Wanna tell me?

**~*~**

“MARUKI!!!” The echo of Akechi’s shouting rang in their ears, yet the crumpled walls of the deteriorated lab remained silent and unimpressed. “MARUKI, YOU BASTARD! SHOW YOURSELF! MARUKI!!!”

“Just… Stop that! He’s not going to come anyway! You’re only attracting shadows!” Makoto threw her hands in the air in exasperation, struggling to remain calm and think; all the noise was not helping in the slightest. Even Mona was agitating her, pacing restlessly in front of her and Futaba.

Akechi’s clawed hands curled into fists and he furiously kicked a broken vase lying on the concrete, scattering the pieces of pale blue porcelain all over the collapsed floor of the lab. He walked a bit further away, crushing the destroyed ceramic under his foot.

Odaiba was a horrible sight; the sterile and elegant facility had partially merged with Mementos and was now a weird, patchworked, frankensteined spatial entity they could only vaguely recognize, with well-known spaces like LeBlanc, Shujin Academy or Kichijoji emerging from the fog here and there, secret rooms full of traps, misleading passages hidden behind heavy, velvet curtains of dark purple color. The floor was covered in a zig-zagged pattern of black and white, overgrown and broken up by dark roots and branches of Mementos’ slimey darkness, which was encroaching on them. Crawling closer and closer. They could tell. The air was cool and had the frightening hint of formalin to it; there was this very specific chill down their backs. Thes feeling of being observed. 

Akechi kicked something again, causing a loud rumble and a cloud of dust to dim his outline for a while. Yusuke tore his eyes away from the sight of their leader; Ren was currently glued to the door of his cell - triple layer of bulletproof plexiglass and white metal - pressing his palms flat to their surface, on the level of Yusuke’s hands on the other side. He was clad in lightweight, beige overall, trapped in the brightly lit isolation ward like a lab rat. 

“Akechi, calm yourself, please. We cannot let ourselves succumb to rage right now.” Yusuke reasoned, trying to get Goro’s attention, and at the sound of his voice Akechi indeed stopped his restless pacing. The muscles of his strong arms rippled under the black-and blue striped monstrosity of an outfit that Akechi wore; the sharp maw of his helmet turned towards Yusuke.

“What else would you have me do? We can’t break this shit, we can’t bypass it using the terminal, there is no way above or below that we can use. What else is there than to call this madman out!?”

“Goro, please use common sense. Even though he doesn’t show it, he must be scared,” Yusuke nodded slightly towards Ren, whose eyes were darting from Yusuke to Akechi and back. “We have to lend him our strength.”

Akechi looked down and away. For once, he remained still. 

“Un-fucking-believable.” Ryuji shook his head with a scoff. “Pacified by a couple of words. Now I can clearly see who was giving it to whom in this relationship.” 

“Screw you, Sakamoto!” Akechi’s eyes flashed red, while Ryuji gripped his pipe harder. It was clear that they were ready to jump at each other; Panther threw herself in between to separate them.

“Oh no, you won’t! How is that supposed to solve anything?! Ryuji, back off! Akechi-kun, stop it right now! Act like adults!”

“Then keep him away from me, I won’t restrain myself if he runs his mouth like this!”

“Then you keep your filthy paws off Ren and Yusuke!” Ryuji almost took a swing at Goro, but Ann shrieked and caught his hand.

“STOP IT right now!!!” Her eyes were lined with tears. “Do we have to fight each other now?! Just calm down, it’s this place, it’s this… aura in here, we are all going mad!” She cried.

Yusuke pressed his forehead to the cold, unyielding glass. Ren’s eyes were infinitely sad from across the barrier. One of the worst surprises they had the morning of the fateful day when the perfect reality shattered, along with the realization of the impending doom of losing their loved ones for the second time and experiencing traumas all over again, was re-discovering _who they were_. Ren was an outcast ex-con again, rejected by his family. Yusuke was thrust back to his old, insecure, broken self under the everpresent heel of his Master. And Akechi… Akechi was a murderer.

The problem lied in fact that during the five-year long idylla created out of Maruki’s ambition, the three of them had gotten… close. 

Very close. 

The hard truth was, they had always wanted to be something more to each other. Even back then, before the terrible discovery of Goro’s betrayal, the ill-fated interrogation room and the fatal gunshot at Shido’s Palace. Their similarities, the drastic wounds inflicted upon them during childhood and reciprocal, fierce codependency welded them together. In desperate need of someone to value him and rely on him thoroughly, Goro found the perfect specimen in the shape of the dependent artist. Yusuke fell into the unwritten set of rules of Akechi’s fierce possessive love as easy as breathing, making him feel grounded and respected, while Ren simply found his avarice strangely endearing. As the first person to really get through to Goro, understand him and even compete with him on an intellectual level, Ren was given unconditional acceptance and fierce loyalty, which alleviated the deep rooted pain and rejection of his own parents. In the same time Goro slowly learned to put his defences down, even though he could not understand why they were there in the first place. Touch starved and alienated, Yusuke absorbed every healing caress and every protective gesture Ren and Akechi bestowed upon him, submitting to them both and thus finding a certain type of freedom he didn’t know was possible outside of the boundaries of his imagination.

It made them form a pack; they had been not unlike scarred, mistrusting wolves, always on the lookout for the threatening human scent. Even if the shadow of their troubled past had been altered, promptly edited and by all intents and purposes should have been nonexistent in the perfect reality, it had manifested itself anyway, in how they would think, act and subconsciously long for acceptance; and the fate would have it that they had finally found shelter in each others’ flaws, which fell into place tight like puzzle pieces and filled the empty slots in their handicapped spirits.

It didn’t meet with understanding from the rest of the Phantom Thieves. 

Upon the discovery - in the worst possible scenario, because it happened _in flagrante_ \- the Phantom Thieves were shocked. Morgana, who had turned back to his cat form, clawed at Akechi’s arm hard enough to draw blood, and it took all of his self-discipline not to retaliate. Ryuji was seething, Haru simply cried with hot, uncessant tears, denying everything and holding Futaba, who was shocked speechless at the prospect of losing her mother again and too depressed to really care about any love triangles. Ann was unable to comfort any of them nor comprehend how it could have happened, preoccupied with thinking that in the days to come she would undoubtedly see Shiho tumble down under the strain of trauma and horrible pain. Makoto had just left Ren’s apartment in disgust and ran, without looking back, without stopping, until she cleared her head and reached her father to clutch at the back of his coat like a little girl again. Sumire didn’t know enough about their past to feel outraged or reject her new friends, so she had just sat silently in the booth, terrified at all the reactions and Ryuji’s shouting.

It wasn’t only about the three of them, of course. Each and every one of the Thieves had their load to carry, their burden. But in such distress, the sight of their sworn enemy sharing a life, _sharing a bed_ with one of their closest friends and their elected leader was too much of a blow. 

Ren’s hands trembled on the cold, unfeeling glass. Yusuke couldn’t even touch him to offer minimal comfort.

“I’m really sorry, Inari... I can’t crack this. I don’t even get what sort of code this is, is it even, like... a language?” Futaba muttered irritably, poking the terminal at the left of the glass door and running a decryption program on her own portable device. Mona patted her calf silently, trying to comfort her. “It totes looks like something written by the aliens, fuckin’ ‘Arrival’ vibes if you get what I mean,” Makoto hissed at the sound of the swear word, but didn’t correct her. Futaba was twenty now, after all. 

Sumire stood up from where she had been huddled at the wall.

“He will respond to me,” she sighed quietly, “I’ll try to call him. Akechi-senpai is right, I don’t see another way; we’re just wasting time.”

Everybody turned to her as she approached the middle of the room and stood amongst the rubble, pulsating dark roots of Mementos and torn, dusty, purple curtains; a single, frail silhouette in the feral dreamscape of a manic mind.

“Maruki-sensei? Can you please come and talk to us?” Silence. “Maruki-sensei. Please.”

Still nothing.

“Maruki-sensei. Please. Maruki-sensei.” The adamant whisper swept the room like a breeze, multiplied ominously by the echo. “Maruki-sensei. Hear me, please. Can you please show yourself…?”

And appear he did, a wild Changeling emerging from the blackness, one second a friendly counsellor in wide-rimmed glasses, the other a hooved and winged Devil, damned, yet clad in white, a cunning Dark One who would demand the upfront payment of a soul in return for granting a wish. Deranged voodoo wielder, spewing shadows and night terrors from under the sparkling purple flaps of his coat, twisting and turning your words to grant a wish that would mean only doom; a huge, bat-like form, only vaguely human in its outline.

“Be quick about it.” Maruki hissed, keeping his distance. Sumire took a small, hesitant step towards him, but more billowing darkness seeped from under his top hat, taking shape of mangled hands and sharp claws, so she stopped, terrified. Akechi moved in front of her, forcing her to back off a little.

“Let him go,” Yusuke demanded loudly, abandoning the glass door. “Maruki, please, let him go. What gives you the right to keep him prisoner?”

Maruki’s eyes were cold and calculating.

“He is the only one who can defeat me. The leader of the Phantom Thieves, a Wildcard gifted with enough power to tear me down. I would be stupid to let him go; I may yet learn his abilities, study them and tap onto his strength; or I may simply starve him to death, if I can’t achieve that.”

“Maruki-sensei!” Sumire’s voice hitched with a panicked note. “Please, don’t say such things! I know you don’t think that, let’s just talk about this…”

“ _I don’t think that?!_ ” Maruki hissed. “You have the gall to tell me _what I think?!_ ”

“Maruki-san, what happened to you…?” Sumire mewled, bringing both hands to the sides of her head in a display of helplessness.

“ _Humanity_ happened to me!” Maruki yelled, and the darkness inflated and wrapped him up like a cocoon. “People, all these people, all their wishes, all their pathetic lives in need of fixing, all their _laziness_ and _greed_ and _wrath_ and the inability to do anything themselves!” Maruki’s form shifted, and the dark leathery wings spread out into the room, dripping slime and brownish sap. “Even when I saved them all, saved them from the clutches of despair or sickness or _death_ , they still want more. It’s never enough… It never will be enough…”

He stumbled, curled in himself as if he was clutching at a wound, took a step back.

“They are all rotten to the core. They are unable to think, or empathize, or relate. YOU are. _You all_ are. HE is.” 

“That’s a lie,” Yusuke’s voice was ringing with certainty and honesty. “That’s a lie you have fallen victim to, bent under the yoke you had put on yourself, under the misplaced sacrifice of a single man against the unchangeable.” Yusuke turned back to the glass door, looking into his boyfriend’s eyes. “And Ren certainly is not like that. Did he not rush to salvage whatever is left of your skewed sanity? Did he not try to reason, or negotiate, instead of gathering us all in preparation of a battle? Let him go, Maruki,” he asked again, “and reflect upon what you have allowed yourself to become.”

Ren knocked on the glass, alarmed, trying to get Yusuke’s attention. He either knew or noticed something the others had not, because he shook his head in a warning. Yusuke didn’t understand.

“It is easy to say such lofty things,” Maruki chuckled dangerously, “when you’re drawing conclusions on mere interpretations, in denial of the facts. You are influenced by your own image of him.” Maruki’s wings flapped and disappeared into a wisp of smoke. He took off his top hat, conjuring something small and shiny out of its depths. “Besides, you can talk. It’s not your own life on the line.”

“What… what do you mean?” Yusuke asked tentatively. Akechi hissed, bending forward with his blade up, pushing Sumire backwards in a protective gesture.

“I mean that your guarantees and warrants don’t impress me,” Maruki said. “You see him as a good person, because you love him. But if you saw his rot... if you saw the things he wants to hide… you wouldn’t. And you would shut. the hell. up.”

Yusuke’s shoulders heaved with a determined, deep breath, and he stepped away from the glass. Behind it, Ren started to scream, jump and bang on the door, all to make Yusuke turn back to him, but the artist would not listen.

“You are right, I love him. And I do tend to focus on his best qualities, just like I did with Goro.” Ruyji growled, but Yusuke silenced him with a short gesture. “It is not because I’m choosing to remain blind to their vices; it’s because I want to draw out the best in the people I love and care about.”

“Entirely false premise.”

“Yusuke, don’t come any closer,” Akechi warned, ready to spring forth with an attack. Behind them, Ren shouted on top of his lungs, his desperate screams muffled to a dull noise by the glass; he banged on the door and slid down to his knees, shaking his head in anguish. Makoto could clearly understand the repeated stream of “No, no, no” coming from his mouth.

“Maruki, let him go. I’ll do whatever you want.”

Series of shocked gasps and furious meowing followed. 

“Yusuke, don’t!” 

“ _NO_!”

“Dude, _stop_ , wait…!” Ryuji tried to grab at his sleeve, but was pushed away.

“I said,” Yusuke took a step closer, “I’ll do whatever you want. You want the proof of human spirit, an offering, a sacrifice? Do what you want, just let Ren go; I would give my life for him.”

Maruki’s expression became predatory. Blackened teeth showed in a smile wide enough to disfigure half of his face.

“You want to strike a deal with the devil…?”

Yusuke hesitated just for a split second; he cast a quick look behind, and the sight of Ren desperately straining against the glass, all in furious tears, steeled his resolve. “If you let Ren go, you can do whatever you want to me,” he repeated. Akechi yelled incomprehensibly, jumping towards him and trying to cover his mouth with a hand, but was rejected. 

“Yusuke, you moron, DON’T!!!” Goro yelled, but it was too late.

“So be it,” Maruki’s voice reverberated through the room and spiking pain drilled into their ears, forcing them all to their knees. His leathery wings transformed into a cloak, wrapping itself tightly around his body, and his form collapsed in on itself, melting to the floor. “Step into the light, Kitagawa-kun. If you manage to survive the labyrinth… I shall let your lover go.” The voice sounded, resonating with a loud hum and making the walls vibrate; yet the structure of the building held, nothing crumbled, and Yusuke stood up slowly with a grunt.

Despite Akechi trying to reason, despite his attempts to subdue him, Yusuke kept his eyes fixed firmly on the shining rectangular which hovered in front of them, hung in the air. Akechi grew desperate, Ren’s yells could almost be heard, the cries and pleas of the rest of the Phantom Thieves joined in on the desperate cacophony, yet Yusuke never faltered; summoning Goemon, he flung Akechi back with an icy blast so hard that he flew backwards and crashed on the glass wall of Ren’s prison. 

The artist stepped into the light, and as he passed the threshold the cool, powerful magic gripped him by his hands and legs and pulled him in, pushing the breath out of his lungs, making him nauseous with the violent sensation of vertigo.


	2. Lab Cam 3/1.2.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompts of choice: Manhandled/Brought to their knees

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This wouldn't happen without @NoonoosKitchen - THANK YOU for all your valuable advice and the emotional akekita/shukita characterization discussions!!!
> 
> WARNINGS: mobkita, restraints, violence, manhandling, blowjobs, deepthroating, BDSM practices, Dom/sub dynamic, hair pulling, blindfold, gagging, penetration, sex toys, nipple clamps, sensory deprivation, spanking, I can keep going, verbal humilation, physical abuse, sex vid, praise kink, orgasm delay/denial, I really can keep going

**~*~**

There were hands on him, hands on his upper arms, pulling him forward, hands tearing at his clothing, hands crawling up his chest to squeeze his neck in a hurtful clamp, hands on his ankles, constricting his ability to kick. Cold hands, hard and white like marble, unmovable shadow hands, gripping him tight and dragging forward until he stumbled and lost his footing, hanging in their grip like a rag doll. Inconsiderate hands, worming themselves into his hair, balling into fists, tearing some strands out, pushing his head down into the floor, so that he had to kneel in supplication and wince in pain.

“We’re supposed to give you a lesson.”

“Master must be kept appeased!”

“...You were really foolish to anger him...”

“Do you seriously think you can get out of this in one piece?” A tug on his hair. “Do you?”

A wide screen appeared on the white wall in front of him, and Yusuke saw himself. 

He was naked; his hands were bound behind his back, and he was forced into the same position he was enduring now, but it was Akechi’s hands fisted in his hair, Akechi’s muscled body standing behind him and preventing his escape. Ren stood above him, bare-chested and with his trousers unzipped, holding his cock up for Yusuke to lick it.

“You must really be a perv,” a shadow lab-assistant mocked. “Master knows, Master can see your thoughts. And you’re trying to save _this guy_? Freaky,” the rest of the shadows laughed; the one behind him held Yusuke’s head stiffly, so he was forced to look at the screen.

“Look between his legs, there’s cum dripping down,” Yusuke heard a cruel voice behind him and more cackling.

“That other one fucked you right before this, right? Unbelievable… you were taking it from both of them on the same night, probably _every_ night, they would pass you around like a fuckdoll. Ah, you like that, don’t you?” A black, empty, eyeless face of a shadow moved closer, almost drooling right next to his cheek. “You are no good for anything else, so that’s how you’d earn your living, allowing them to fuck you sideways in exchange for keeping you fed and clothed.”

Anger boiled down in Yusuke’s stomach; _no. This is not how it went. They are not like Madarame to me. They were not taking advantage of me._

“Keep your eyes open!” The shadow hissed, grabbing both sides of his face and forcing cold fingers into his eyelids. “Look at yourself, see? This look on your face? Disgusting.”

In the video Ren was thrusting into Yusuke’s mouth, deliberately slow, so that he would feel every inch of his length against his lips. Akechi’s grip on his hair was steady and firm, even though Yusuke didn’t fight; he was swallowing diligently around Ren’s dick, keeping his eyes fixed on the face of his partner. ‘Is that enough for you, little Fox?’ Goro’s voice was sugarcoated. ‘Why won’t you tell him what you really want, hmm?’ Yusuke moaned at this, nodding his approval, and Ren withdrew. ‘Tell him what you want.’

Yusuke’s eyes were glazed over, absent. ‘Fuck my throat,’ he said quietly, ‘fuck my throat, please, fuck me fuckmefuckme... please. Don’t stop... even if I choke... d-deep… please…’ Ren hummed happily above him and bent down to kiss his bruised lips briefly, a sweet treat to reward his commitment. ‘Such a sweet fox.’

‘Oh, but he forgot his manners,’ Akechi laughed, tugging at the navy hair hard enough to shake Yusuke’s form back and forth. ‘What have you forgotten, Yusuke? Do you know?’ The artist gave him a terrified stare, his lips trembled slightly; he pouted, not knowing what’s expected of him. ‘How do you properly address your master?’

‘...Sir,’ Yusuke mewled, closing his eyes in shame. Akechi smiled. ‘That’s right. So now, apologize for your mistake and beg him for a punishment. And maybe after that he’ll be so inclined to grant your wish.’ Goro kissed the top of Yusuke’s head affectionately, just next to where he was gripping his hair, hard enough to cause a furious burn to his scalp.

‘I… apologize for my behaviour, Sir, it was unbefitting of me,’ Yusuke breathed a well-taught line without a second of hesitation, closing his eyes at the pain. ‘I request a punishment so that I may learn to behave better for you, Sir.’ Ren’s eyes were warm and definitely pleased, but Akechi shook him again, demanding to see more incentive; only after Yusuke crawled on the floor and kissed both of Ren’s feet, almost making himself cry with a repeated string of ‘I beg you, please, I beg you,’ Goro allowed him to kneel again and positioned his head for Ren to ravish.

“You’re such a slut,” the shadows kept mocking. “Only a whore could take pleasure from this.”

“Absolutely disgusting. How can you look at yourself in the mirror?”

“Degenerate.”

“An artist...? Pfft. Don’t make me laugh.”

_This_. This was exactly the point they were missing. This was exactly what had triggered the scene before him, Yusuke thought, digging deep into his memory to recall the whole turn of events. As he was looking at his own face, contorted in a painful frown as Ren bottomed out into his throat, causing him to sputter and gurgle on spit and pre-come, Yusuke did not see anything offending. He couldn’t understand what was the disgusting part. Was it the visuals...? Maybe for them. He was rather biased.

Yusuke knew it was himself who had asked his boyfriends to chase away every conscious and self-depreciating thought out of his head; it was after a well-renowned art critic trashed his paintings publicly a week before the opening night of his exhibition. Yusuke could still remember her garish yellow coat and the sound of her designer black stilettos as she paced in front of the main piece of the art show, huffing and grimacing and finally calling forward ‘whoever committed that shallow doodle’. Yusuke had stepped forward, his sleeves rolled up, hair tousled and sweat running down his back from carrying the canvases and climbing ladders. She raised an eyebrow at his appearance, ripped paint-stained pants and a casual shirt he had chosen exactly for the purpose of getting it dirty. Talentless, she called him. A fad, a frivolous whim of the general public. Clearly a wannabe cashing on his teacher’s fame. 

Maruki’s vid did not convey the sadness of Ren’s gaze as he beheld his crying boyfriend later that evening, nor the sheer anger Akechi emanated, already making plans to destroy that woman’s career in the quiet darkness of his calculating mind. It neglected to show how they listened to him patiently, allowing him to spill it out and then refuted it, stroking his head or holding his hand in a comforting manner. The video didn’t show his heartbreaking plea to lift the burden away from his shoulders, to make him forget this awful day, to make him feel worthy and desired; it only showed how he writhed in his bonds, trying to wriggle away from a striking hand.

The supportive hold of Akechi’s arms was all but omitted in favour of the vicious grip on his hair, which had been there for show. The silent communication passing between Ren and Goro each time they cut Yusuke’s air supply wasn’t shown. The caring touch, wiping the tears away from the corners of Yusuke’s eyes was conveniently cut out. The whole reason as to why this was happening got lost, twisted and mocked among the ripples of laughter and lewd jokes; the longer the video ran, the more violent the shadows became, pushing him and hitting him at random, one of them finally backhanding Yusuke in the face. As he was sprawled on the floor, trying to regain clear vision, a kick came straight into his solar plexus and he didn’t manage to tense his muscles fast enough; the impact winded him, left him wheezing on the white tiles.

“What’s the matter? You like this, don’t you? No reason to play shy now, weirdo.”

The vid went on, showing how Ren came down Yusuke’s throat with a breathy moan and how Goro held his jaw shut with one hand, stroking down his throat with a finger, coaxing him to swallow. The demonic lab assistants leered at that, trying to rip Yusuke’s outfit and catcalling loudly; they locked two sets of tight, metal shackles on his wrists and ankles, and the cold bite of the iron restraints shook Yusuke to the core with its finality - so sudden, so unfamiliar, so debilitating.

What a difference consent made.

On the screen above his head, Ren kissed both of Yusuke’s eyelids, wiping his chin from saliva and cum with a clean, wet cloth. He kept cooing endearments into his ear. Akechi was busy preparing the aforementioned punishment. He pulled up a wooden chair and brought forward a couple of items. Using the fact that Yusuke was unmoving, safely cradled in Ren’s arms, he pushed just the tip of a blue, girthy dildo past his entrance, marvelling at the sound Yusuke made; meeting no resistance beside an involuntary twitch of his limbs, he pushed it all the way in. Ren kept his stream of praises going, scrunching up a white, striped scarf in his left hand. He promptly stuffed it into Yusuke’s mouth to gag him, cutting off the moans, and Akechi followed with a wide strip of silver duct tape. They pushed him up, binding his upper arms and legs into the chair.

Yusuke was prepared for an endurance exercise, so he exhaled through his nose calmly and fell back into the chair, awaiting further instructions. A soft, warm rustle of a blindfold came down on his head, focusing his attention inward. The following sting of small, unassuming nipple clamps grounded him in his own body. 

‘See you in an hour...’ Akechi’s voice whispered to his ear. He flicked a switch; suddenly all of Yusuke’s body jolted, tensed on the chair as he fought his restraints and failed. The dildo started vibrating, with a steady, continuous thrum of pleasure against his prostate. ‘...if you can last that long.’ 

‘Even if you don’t, our sweet Fox,’ Ren’s voice in his other ear. ‘This is a punishment. So you will have to endure it for us. But you will, won’t you? You’re such a good, obedient Fox.’ 

‘Don’t you think we’re just?’ Akechi asked, increasing the intensity of vibrations a notch. ‘Don’t you want to thank us?’ Yusuke nodded; a mewl escaped past the gag as he craned his neck to achieve a connection, touch Goro with his cheek, or his forehead, or his nose. He was feeling Ren’s touch, he wanted to feel Akechi’s too. ‘Ah-ah, not yet, beautiful... Not yet.’ Ren’s tender hands left him as well, and Yusuke all but whined needily, so Goro slapped his thigh once, leaving a red handprint. ‘Behave. Unless you want me to put weights on the clamps, too?’

The chains attached to his hands were pulled taut. Yusuke shot a panicked glance at the tallest lab assistant, who stepped right in front of him; the ones holding the chains were invisible in the fog, holding his hands outstretched to the sides. 

“Don’t you think about recreating this, I wonder? Are you hard? I bet you are,’ the shadow lifted his foot and stepped on Yusuke’s crotch, slowly increasing the force. “From what our Master tells us, after they left you on that chair for some time, they came back to spread-eagle you face down on the bed and spanked you until you _came_.” The shadow was drooling obscenely. “You got off on this. On pain. Can you do that on command? Cum from pain? Or do you have to have your asshole stuffed-”

...The shadow’s head tumbled off it’s shoulders with a fountain of blood splattering everywhere; the limp body turned into black dust a second later. A familiar power surge of Laevateinn swiped the room, turning two more shadow assistants into piles of ash; Yusuke felt the chains go slack and he shielded his eyes from the blasts, catching a dark figure with a red serrated sword wreak absolute havoc in the far end of the room. More spells exploded, the neon blade whirled in the fighter’s hands, drawing deadly circles around the swift figure, always protecting his back. A shadow holding Yusuke dropped him to the floor and transformed into a harlequin with a scythe; the monster threw itself mindlessly at the new foe. In two precise strikes it was _gutted_ , ripped open from the navel to the throat, and Akechi’s furious yell almost deafened out the screech of a dying Macabre.

“Yusuke!” Goro slid down on the floor in front of him, grabbing at the chains. “Are you hurt?! Did they hurt you?!”

“Behind you!” Yusuke yelled, his eyes going wide; the silent and ugly face of a Nebiros appeared just above Goro’s shoulder, but he turned around just in time to block, raising up to one knee. The last thing Yusuke saw before the chains on his wrists and ankles were pulled at again, quickly dragging him away from his rescuer into another shining rectangle of a door, was Goro’s muscled back straining against the force of the blow.

Yusuke lost sight of Akechi, thrown into another whirlpool of light.


	3. Lab cam 1/ 1.2.3. ALT 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompts of choice: Waking up restrained/shackled/hanging + Water from the alt list

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: A LOT for this one  
> 1) in flashback: Child abuse, violence, child neglect and bullying.  
> 2) main body: Violence & torture, whipping, restraints, angst, mental abuse and intimidation, hair cutting, altered states of mind, gore, blood, explicit descriptions of injuries and killing shadows with all the colorful details (feral!Akechi), elements of horror  
> 3) NSFW in flashback, implied BDSM, blow jobs and rimming
> 
> I tagged it to the best of my ability. Please employ common sense and stay safe. If you just want to read the "good part", NSFW flashback and rescue, please read after //~*~// sign, that way you'll skip the worst of the torture segment, what remains should not be triggering.
> 
> Thank you for your time, and as always I kindly ask for your feedback.

**~*~**

Yusuke woke up on a cold, hard floor. 

_I shouldn’t move_ , he thought immediately, shutting his eyes; _I shouldn’t let them know I’m awake._

He was all stiff. His joints ached dully, and the cold seeped unpleasant throbbing deep into his limbs, making him weirdly aware of every bone, every ligament, every little cog and screw that made up the bigger whole that was his body. All those parts of himself that he usually took for granted and never even noticed. 

There was a leaden weight on his wrists, and the skin felt clammy under the manacles. He didn’t dare to move, but he knew a similar set sits at his bare ankles.

He was able to discern that the room was a chamber carved in stone, with no source of natural light, no window or a vent; water trickled down the mossy walls, glistening in the polished metal of various restraints, bars and handles nailed to the stone. Just in front of him, partially hidden in the corner darkness that wasn’t dissipated by the only torch, stood a sturdy wooden cross in the shape of a big X, meant to hold the prisoner standing with their arms and legs spread. 

He was in a dungeon.

Out of all possible places Maruki could have conjured, he settled for something as crude and uninspired as a dungeon. What was his game here? When he had failed to break him by making him watch the dissected, polluted memory, would he now try the old fashioned methods of pain and torture? Yusuke almost laughed. Did he think that physical suffering was something unknown or terrifying? 

It was not. For all the anguish he had known in life, the brute sensation of pain was not the most feared. He recalled how Madarame had slapped him in front of all of the students in the atelier; the memory was fuzzy at first, unfamiliar, congealed with five years of un-real happiness laying on top of it.   
But a slap was more of a humiliation than real pain. So why would he be so sure he knew what pain was...? He searched deeper. Yes. There was this one time when he was still a kid and he got sick from inhaling too much turpentine. He had bad migraines for days, vomiting fits that lasted long into the night, the following eye irritation and digestive problems that he had been all but abandoned to battle himself. It certainly was pain; but not a sharp, focused, purposeful pain a lasher would deal. It was a very biological ache of his system malfunctioning. So why did _this_ seem so… mundane to him?

Ah. 

Pain of being wounded, stabbed or hit by magic. All of the Metaverse battles that ended with him incapacitated, awaiting the mercy of a healing item. The ailments of burn, fear, dizziness and despair, as well as exhaustion upon coming out of the distorted world of human desires. _Joker, I think we should get home! Yusuke is barely keeping up in this heat!_ Madarame’s explosive temperament, the punishing cane, the headlong trip down the stairs that resulted in five stitches on his cranium. The smash of his face against the doorframe and a permanently crooked nasal septum. _If you have time for inventing lies to tell me, Yusuke, you sure have time for more work._ Inconsiderate peers and classmates, breaking all of his school utensils, shattering the bottle of ink on the pavement and making him kneel on the shards and say sorry. _Apologize for being a creep! Never stare at me like that again, you hear me?!_

Wait… were these his own memories? The thought of the kids back at middle school sparked a vision and Yusuke’s heart leaped to his throat. Someone had told him a similar story in the past, and the details of it bled into his recollection; _Akechi!_ Tough, brusque, arrogant boy who had nonetheless offered him kindness, held him through many a night of bad dreams together with Ren, and now… now he threw himself into the unknown danger to save him, regardless of the consequences, even after he had been pushed away. 

Yusuke was not alone. Goro will come. Goro will tear through the very fabric of this fictional hell and come to save him.

The rusty hinges of the cell door creaked open and Yusuke felt the heavy, slow footsteps reverberating through the floor. Staying as still as possible, keeping his inhales as silent and invisible as he was able, he spied two powerful, red calves circling him and retrieving a bucket from the corner of the cell. 

An Oni. 

Even though he’d known this was coming all along, the slimey, sickly sensation of fear crawled on his skin and covered it in swathes of goosebumps. It pooled low in his stomach, scattered his thoughts and spiked them with doubt. He froze in one position, even though he rationally knew how useless this tactic was; playing dead to discourage the predator wouldn’t do any good. Hiding behind the barrier of his own palms pressed flush to his face was something a child would do, believing that if they close their eyes, others can’t see them too; he realized all that - and yet Yusuke’s body wouldn’t move.

 _Get a hold of yourself,_ a panicked thought appeared, _Goro will come. He will come. Don’t give them the satisfaction._

A loud sound of water being poured into the bucket by the means of an old, creaky hand pump made the hair on his nape rise. Once the bucket was full, Yusuke vaguely thought he knew what was coming, and yet when the bucketload of icy water was poured over his back, he was completely unprepared for it. 

It was like sharpest daggers on his skin, like a thousand needles piercing him in one instant, and the air was forced out of his lungs with a shout. His heart rate skyrocketed; trying to overcome the impact, he crawled on all fours as far away from the demon as the shackles allowed and curled into a ball under the cross, catching shallow breaths with his contracting lungs. As he shook and sputtered, the bucket was filled again and another surge of water hit him, soaking him through, leaving him breathless with his skin crawling and teeth chattering.

The Oni put the bucket down and came up to hover above him, silent and very attentive. He followed his every move with those small, inquisitive red eyes, registering and cataloguing every reaction. Yusuke knew straight away that this one was much more dangerous than the previous bickering lab assistants; he gritted his teeth in determination and forced himself under control. 

“I received orders to get you ready, prisoner.”

This hoarse, low voice wasn’t spoken; it resounded in Yusuke’s head, multiplied by echo. The Oni didn’t open his mouth, and yet Yusuke heard him alright. There was magic at work here, perusing Yusuke’s memories, muddling or heightening his senses at will, making him hear or see things, pulling out facts and snippets of information at will; Yusuke realized with fright he is not safe in his own head. 

And yet he refused to give him his fear. Even as the demon put his paws upon him and started to slowly, methodically cut away his wet Phantom Thief attire to leave him completely naked and shivering on the polished stones, Yusuke kept telling himself to be brave. Even as the chains were pulled taut and he was dragged to the center of the room again to be hoisted up to a kneeling position, he endured it silently. 

The Oni grabbed his chin into his monstrous paw and turned his head to the left, then to the right, appraising him carefully. He walked to the wooden table on the other end of the room, laid out with different iron instruments; he picked two torches and lit them one by one, placing them carefully in the holders at the walls. Yusuke watched his unhurried, deliberate movements with rising dread. 

The Oni came back to the table and brought forward a length of harsh, hemp rope. He looped it around Yusuke’s neck, forming a snug noose. Yusuke braced himself at the pull - but the monster just left the rope hanging down his chest; he turned around wordlessly again, without hurting him, to busy himself with something at the table. 

The prisoner forced his shaking body to listen. He had to take a deep breath, he had to breathe. _Think logically, Yusuke._ The noose was more of a symbol of his status as a captive than any means to hurt him; this was _designed_ to make him freak out. And indeed, it was getting more and more easy to derail his thoughts into panic. 

He couldn’t allow that to happen. He grounded himself with conviction again, trying to think only about why he had agreed to all this, about Ren - his benevolent smile and the whiff of cedar soap in his hair, his gentle, callused hands, holding his palms close to his mouth and kissing his knuckles, one by one. Gathering him close to his chest just upon waking up, to steal a moment more and nestle his boyfriend safely to him, shield him from the unkindness of the outside world. Yusuke envisioned Goro, too; the way he would reach for morning coffee grumpily, rubbing at his eyes; how he would come up with a snarky answer whenever spoken to, but at the same time cling to Ren’s back, wrapping both hands around his middle when almost dozing off, towed by the other one around the kitchen. 

His life. His everyday, the safety of home they had built, despite the odds, despite the fear, despite himself. This was why he was doing it. For Ren. Ren and Goro. He anchored his hope in the upcoming rescue.

_Goro… Goro, where are you..._

The demon finished preparing something - a strange, scentless white powdery mixture - and approached Yusuke again. When he grabbed his hair and tilted his head back, Yusuke was given a full view of an item in his knobby hand: it was a rusty pair of shears. 

He tried to wrench away, but lost to the iron grip threatening to snap his neck like a twig. Short blue strands started to fall to the floor, cut unevenly and too close to the scalp; Yusuke couldn’t help it but gasp at the yanks of the monster paws in his mane, wince at the blunt, jamming shears catching and pulling at his lovely blue hair; but even as his eyes lined with hot, pained tears, he did not make a single sound. 

“You are ready now,” the voice in his head announced.

**~*~**

He couldn’t tell how much time had passed. He was hanging by his wrists, his feet barely touching the floor - the strain the metal cuffs and the weight of his own body had put on his hands was unbearable, and at the same time he wasn’t entirely sure if he could feel them anymore. The most bizarre feeling, the numbness and illusory nonexistence of something that was definitely there, and hurting.

The monstrous prison guard was completely quiet, whatever he did. Except those two initial sentences no more words were spoken, and the deafening silence broke only when Yusuke himself made a sound, which by now happened frequently. Small sobs and two names, continuously on his lips like a prayer; he repeated them as if it could save him. Minutes trickled lazily, crawled into hours, merged together into an indiscernible haze, and Yusuke fell into a detached headspace where he no longer even cared, the time being measured only by the repetitive pattern administered by his jailor.

The routine was easy to remember. Anchoring. Predictable. 

First - thirty slow, deliberate blows to his unprotected back with a corded whip of six long tails. The hits were carefully measured to increase in force; at first they were only meant to sting, to irritate the skin and cover it with reddish abrasions. Then, after a few, the momentum of the swing was increased enough to bruise. Then to injure. Yusuke’s body was swinging back and forth with the force of the blows, but never too far from the spot he had been chained to; his shackled ankles, spread to the sides, were keeping him in place. The wrists pulsed with white hot pain down to his elbows and taut upper arms. 

After that - the Oni would step to the front and place a single shallow cut at his inner thigh, like a tally mark. Each notch for each round of whipping. Yusuke could not crane his head down enough to see how many were there; he didn’t really care, either. All he was able to register was the hot wetness trickling down his leg, itching as the blood dried and coagulated.

And finally - the third and final component - a fistful of salt, rubbed into the abused shoulders and into his thigh, flooding his senses with breathtaking, stinging pain, causing him to recoil and scream every time; it was powerful enough to block every other sensation, and after the shock, once it started to dissipate, the retreating pain always took away yet another ounce of his sanity. 

Then - break.

The torture of waiting.

And then it was all happening again. And again, and again, and again. Not a word, not a spoken sound, not a single question. A perpetual cycle of meticulous, purposeful abuse, premeditated and delivered with silent devotion of the monster servant. It was almost comforting to know what was coming next; the pattern gave him tangible intervals to brace himself through, promised respite if only he could endure it for long enough. If Yusuke was more lucid, he would realize the simple brilliance of this ploy, which was swiftly reducing his mind to that of a trained animal; but he was already suspended outside of time and space, reduced to defensive jerk reactions and shallow, rapid breaths. 

All the hurt was not enough for him to break yet, but at the same time it was too much - carefully administered doses of pure, simple, visceral _pain_ were pushing him closer and closer to the verge of giving up, making him fantasize about screaming for mercy. He held on desperately, not really remembering why he must keep doing it; he was hanging by a single thread of consciousness and repeating two precious names over and over and over again, dimly aware of the meaning they held to him. 

**//~*~//**

“...You are so beautiful like this.” 

Ren’s smile was like the sun itself as he gazed down on his lover, who was lying flat on his stomach among the ruffled bedsheets. Ren was trailing his finger up and down Yusuke’s back, covered in a red net of thin criss-crossing lines; a bit lower, in between Yusuke’s legs, Goro was lazily licking at the raised welts on his backside, burrowed there like an overgrown cat.

“Mhm. Resilient little Fox.” Akechi praised, stopping for a second to place an affectionate peck on the small of Yusuke’s back, then coming back to the spot he had just abandoned. 

“Thank you,” Yusuke muttered languidly, marvelling at the sensation of the hot tongue on his buttcheek. The abrasion Goro paid attention to smarted a little, but it wasn’t altogether unpleasant. “I must admit though, I was worried about the aesthetics of this arrangement; I am in doubt every time my body misbehaves.”

“Misbehaves? How so?” Ren stuffed his nose into Yusuke’s hair with a happy purr, just behind his ear, inhaling the scent of his sweat and submission. He kept tracing small featherlight circles on Yusuke’s whipped shoulder blade.

“Well… The grimaces I must be making, the involuntary twitches, the way I sweat and drool, and shy away from your touch, how my back hunches and the fat bulges in certain places. I… do not consider myself particularly… um...”

“...Beautiful?” Akechi raised himself up on both hands, covering Yusuke’s naked form with his own muscled body and ghosting a breath over the tiny hairs standing up on his nape. Yusuke nodded into the pillow. “Well, you better start _considering_. You are. You are the most willowy, ethereal, flawless goddamn _siren_ I have ever seen in my life. And naked, you absolutely beat the greek statues.”

“Agreed,” Ren busied himself with planting a row of brief little kisses from Yusuke’s temple down to the underside of his jaw. “Besides, beauty doesn’t reside only in the shape of your body. It’s about the way you endure this. It’s about how you surrender. It’s this… this way your eyes glaze over…”

“Yeah…” Akechi arched an eyebrow knowingly. “How you whisper his name, completely trusting.” Yusuke hid his face in the pillow. “How you subconsciously lean into my touch, recognizing me, even when blindfolded.”

“You were amazing today.” Ren patted Yusuke’s pouting lips with a pad of his finger. “So accept the compliment. Open up for me?”

Yusuke did, lifting his head up so that Ren could kiss him more easily. He slid his tongue into Yusuke’s mouth, swirling it gently, brushing the roof of his mouth and the lower teeth. With a quiet mewl, Yusuke craned his neck a bit, and Ren deepened the kiss even more, the slow dance of tongues absorbing him completely. Akechi flopped to his side and turned Yusuke over, so that he could spoon up to him; he wrapped an arm around his middle, gathering the pliant body close, and amused himself with watching them kiss. 

“A little bit of an aftercare is in order,” he assessed idly, brushing his thumb over the skin of the pale stomach. “But some aloe here and there and a proper massage will do the trick. Worry not; I will take care of it while Ren prepares supper.” He smirked, starting to nibble on Yusuke’s clavicle, just on top of a bloodshot, purple hickey. “Oh, and you should wear that loose shirt I bought you, just for comfort; the silk one.”

Ren broke the kiss to smirk like a devil. “Or, he could simply stay naked.”

“Tempting,” Goro agreed. “But our Fox shouldn’t get cold... In any case, rewarding him comes first, so you better keep up.”

“ _You_ better keep up,” Ren scoffed, pretending offense. “Relax, Yusuke. No, shush…! No buts. Just relax.”

They both slid down on the bed to the level of his crotch, one on each side of him. Goro lifted Yusuke’s leg into the air and bent it in the knee, spreading him wide; he allowed him to support the foot on his own thigh. Ren also fixed his hold on Yusuke’s leg to further support it and positioned himself directly over his crotch.

All thought fled from Yusuke’s mind the second he felt a scorching trail of two tongues simultaneously licking at his flesh, Ren from the front, Goro at the back. Soft mouth closed over his length, wrapping him up with impossible heat; a little bit lower, the wriggling, inquisitive tongue was sliding back and forth over his perineum, just barely mouthing the seam of his balls before retreating up and probing at his puckered entrance. Yusuke’s voice caught in his throat; this wasn’t scripted, he never expected it, and this double assault was quickly turning him into a putty. He felt the sudden, compulsive need to grab at something, to squeeze, to hold, but he was so reluctant to interrupt this overflowing, wet sensation, so instead of burying his fingers in the black locks or grabbing the short, auburn ponytail, he grabbed the metal bars of the headboard. 

Ren tickled the drawn balls with his free hand, sucking hard at his boyfriend’s length. His cheeks hollowed at the motion. Akechi’s nose lodged itself in between Yusuke’s cheeks and his tongue squirmed inside of him, eliciting a squeal - Yusuke quickly clamped his own hand over his mouth to smother the sound.

Goro broke his rhythm for a moment, ungluing himself with a wet click. “You can scream,” he allowed him with a snide smile, before vigorously plunging back inside. Ren hummed merrily around Yusuke’s cock, huffing a short laugh into his pubic hair.

And so Yusuke did. 

**~*~**

It must have been a second or a third time Yusuke had lost and briefly regained consciousness. 

His body no longer tensed in an anticipation of a blow, his breathing was shallow and impaired. The strained, overexerted arms were pulling the muscles on his chest constantly taut, making it impossible to accommodate the expanding ribcage any longer and thus slowly suffocating him. His mouth hung agape, the previously incessant whisper of two names now still on his lips. 

Vacant, unblinking eyes stared at a single point in space, not really registering anything.

Upon completion of the thirteenth tally mark - almost as low as the inner knee - the Oni put the knife finally down. Circling the victim, he approached the wall and reached for the chains to loosen them and lower Yusuke on the ground.

The shock of the numb arms suddenly going slack set the whole of Yusuke’s body aflame and a mute scream tore itself out of his lungs, but he blacked out only a second after. He didn’t feel the noose or the shackles being removed. He didn't feel the hands of six smaller demons summoned to drag him out of the cell; he didn’t feel the cold as his body was pulled through the stone floor, his left hip and legs dragging over the polished cobblestones. His head hung low, his arms remained a dead weight in the grip of the devilish servants. 

The Incubi chittered to each other in their screechy language, laughed shrilly and soon started to argue about something; the torch-lit corridor was otherwise empty and the sounds of their speech echoed loudly. They pulled Yusuke on, transporting him to a different cell; their shadows grew distorted on the wall, appearing skewed and enlarged in between the flickers of the orange flames, merging into a bizarre, multi-legged beast, carrying its prey towards the lair. The Oni followed them from some distance, silent and foreboding.

Yet a weird sound startled the guard and he stopped in his tracks in the middle of the corridor. Electricity…?

The air crackled, sparks running through it, and a weird, ripping sound alarmed the monster. He leaned in to listen; the goblin-like Incubi creatures didn’t even notice, screeching on, but fell silent immediately after a single growl from their superior. They stopped abruptly, cowering in fear. The unexpected halt rocked Yuske’s body and awoke him briefly, but he was too tired to raise his head. 

The Oni approached the weird, shimmering crack of light that appeared out of nowhere in between him and the group of servants; the air was pulsing around the rift, seeping purple mist through, and the crackling, rippling sound of electricity was becoming louder and louder. The air bore a distinct scent of something chemical; the Oni reached out his hand slowly to test the weird phenomenon.

In a split second the rift tore open into a substantial gap in space, by means of some blast of energy imploding it; they could clearly hear the sounds of battle coming from the other side, screams of dying shadows, metallic clangor and angry shouting mixed with swooshing sounds of magic missiles. Bright, white light invaded the dungeon corridor in eye-stinging rays, bathing it in an eerie, sterile glow. A furious string of curses and another _kaboom_ shook the place; dust fell down on the heads of the shadow servants and Yusuke, who dimly registered the vibrations of the ground below him. The Incubi scattered in panic, the yelling grew in intensity, he tried to see, to crane his head, to understand what was happening, and when he finally succeeded and forced his beaten body to cooperate, the most frightening sight greeted him.

Two huge, monstrous, clawed hands were sticking out of the shining rift, grabbing at the edges of it and tearing it apart with force. A black-and-white maw full of sharp teeth pushed itself into the gap, salivating abundantly and growling; it forced the rift further apart, pushing at it with all of the body weight, and the monstrous creature sniffed the air like an animal. The small yellow eyes swept the corridor, registering everything, the number of foes and the constraints of the room, quickly resting on Yusuke; the monster’s growl pitched lower and the hands pried at the edges of the rift with twice the force. The beast gave a grunt of exertion as the purple mist billowed around it, blocking the view. The walls seemed to fight, trying to clench back and seal the rift; the sound of electricity and the sharp smell of ozone intensified. The elongated maw lowered in fatigue, shaking all over; thick strings of saliva were pooling at the floor, and the beast started to _howl_ , desperately holding on. Its pained cry mixed with a much more human, equally exerted screaming coming from a smaller, humanoid creature swirling in a fight just below the creepy apparition, in between its legs; Yusuke felt a sting of rising panic, understanding nothing of the sight, unable to tear his eyes away.

There was a bright white room on the other side of the rift, and the huge monster was clearly trying to get out of there. The fighter underneath him dealt yet another devastating blow to an agile Macabre that came right at him; the scythe flipped over a few times and clunked uselessly on the tiled floor. The fighter was already far away, throwing another shadow back with a magically enhanced swing of his red sword; the spray of blood soiled the floor and splashed at the howling mountain of the black-and-white zig-zagged monstrosity. Another shadow coming at the masked fighter was simply skewered; he pushed at the enemy with all his might, and the black blood oozed from the wound, gurgling obscenely and overflowing all over his hands. The fighter’s movements were getting sloppy and haphazard, his balance slightly off on the slick wet floor, and yet he was still quick as a lightning and so full of rabid, animal energy that the shadows started to move back. There was no mercy for them, though. The last two enemies fell during their retreat, ribcages slashed open and spines snapping in two, their throats cut brutally to bleed out and twitch in agony on the rapidly reddening floor before disappearing into a cloud of black dust.

Finally free of the pests, the fighter approached the rift and imitating the stance of his morbid Persona he grabbed at the edges of the gap to push at them as well, the muscles on his back bulging under the strain. Terrifying red eyes stared straight at Yusuke through the visors of his black helmet, the grit of his teeth and a throaty grunt coming from what must have been a man distorted into a moan of exertion, then a savage scream, and the monster above him howled too, giving his all into the task; a hooved leg entered the rift and pushed at its side too. The combined effort caused the breach to literally moan and creak under the assault, widen obscenely and wetly like a wound, seep more of the purple mist; and finally, _finally_ the gap was wide enough for the striped silhouette to crawl through. With a horrible, short, guttural laughter the man picked up his sword and the Persona materialized fully behind him, passing through unaffected; the Oni and the Incubi, frozen in fear, _took a step back_.

The man panted heavily, visibly tired; there was blood dripping down his clawed gauntlets, and the exhales were heavy enough to make his whole body heave, but he was still a frightening view, a strange, red aura glowing around him like rising smoke. The demons were too stunned to move, too afraid to attack first. Yusuke just shook on the floor, petrified; he was too weak to escape this thing, too hurt to move, this must be the end, and what a pathetic end it was…! He was only able to hide his face in the dirty stone floor as the monster jumped, without a run-up, without a warning, with a deafening scream of “LOOOOKIIIII!” that cut into Yusuke’s ears, and the shadows started to die around him. Yusuke curled on the floor in complete fear. Who, no, _WHAT_ was that freak…?!

The Incubi swarmed around the fighter, summoning lesser demons and flapping their leathery wings at his helmet. The powerful Oni regained his composure too and swung the axe towards the enemy, intending to knock him off his feet; the man crouched flat on the floor, swiftly avoiding it, and sliding through the floor, embedded his blade horizontally into the Oni’s leg just below the knee. A fast, harsh pull of the capable arms and the leg was sawn off, the sickening sound of the splinting bone resounding unbelievably loud in Yusuke’s ears.

The black-and white braids of the horrible Persona whipped the air, parrying the smaller blows and pushing the Incubi back; one of them was tossed across the room with such force that he splattered on the wall, marring it with black blood and brain matter. Its dying sigh made Yusuke sick, and he curled tighter into himself, trying to fight with the dry retch that suddenly swelled in his stomach.

The one-legged, raging Oni tried to grab at the belts wrapped around the legs and arms of the fighter, and its arms flailed as it tripped and fell. He managed to throw the fighter off-balance, though, for long enough to enable a blow from behind; the top part of the black helmet flew off, punched open and mangled by a force of the spell from a smaller shadow, and the fighter stumbled, but the devilish Persona swooshed past him and latched onto the last remaining Incubus biting into his neck like a vampire. Black Mask tumbled away through the floor and regained his footing; in the last, desperate attempt to attack the Oni threw his axe at him, but it was too slow, too distracted to aim right - the man avoided it swiftly, and the weapon struck the wooden beam of an accidental door frame. Black Mask giggled like a maniac, ran towards the Oni without a second of delay; three precise steps ending on the left foot, with a sharp sway of hips to add impetus and the blade fell down, cleanly decapitating the ogre. The red body fell on the floor with a dull thud, the stump of his neck rapidly seeping blood in between the stones; the head, with its eyes bulging out in shock, was swept aside with the force of the blow and flew across the room to hit the wall and idly roll away. 

Yusuke stared at the hands of the dead demon. They were still twitching. The clawed fingers - so meticulous in delivering the torture before - grasped at the empty air. Two striped fiends stood in the middle of an empty, blood-streaked room, back to back, visibly exhausted, but ever cautious; for a while they didn’t move, expecting more enemies, observing their surroundings vigilantly, catching their breath.

The corridor fell into silence. The last body evaporated into dust, the last trace of massacre disappeared, leaving only the blood on the fighter’s own body, seeping from his own wounds and dripping in quiet little drops from the tips of his gauntlets. The sickening scent of carnage hung in the air. 

Only then Black Mask dared to loosen his battle stance and slowly turn towards the prisoner still paralyzed on the floor. The black-and-white apparition flew behind him as he walked towards the last living person in the room, the steps loud, ringing in his ears, the face of the fighter unknown, unnatural, still twisted in a murderous grimace, the armoured gloves balling to fists on his sides, ready to close down on his throat…

Yusuke blacked out.

**~*~**

. _..usuke._

_...Yusuke…_

_...Yusuke, open your… ...don’t… ...to me. Yusuke…!_

_...It’s me!_ ...Can you hear me…?!” 

He was cradled safely in someone’s arms and a soft hand was patting his cheek incessantly. Warmth, no, heat was seeping through that person into him, and he knew the scent, even though it was mixed with the awful stench of blood, but he knew it, he recognized it, he used to sleep next to it, he used to smell it around the house and things, he used to soak in it, borrowing Goro’s T-shirt when he forgot to do enough laundry, he used to…

_GORO…!_

“Yusuke, can you hear me?” The concerned voice kept repeating into his ear, and the arms around him tightened. “Please, just fucking say something. Please tell me I’m not too late.”

Yusuke couldn’t force his arms to move, so he just snuggled closer, pushing his face into Akechi’s clavicle. Goro felt a more prominent huff of breath on his neck and moved back immediately to look at Yusuke’s face, to confirm that he’s alive, awake; Yusuke gave him the faintest of smiles. His eyes started to tear involuntarily.

“...’Ke-chi…”

“I’m here,” Goro stammered, scanning the extent of Yusuke’s injuries, skimming his hand over the mangled inner thigh, grabbing his wrists to inspect the skin, torn and bloodied, the limbs bruised deeply from bearing the whole weight of Yusuke’s body for so long. “Wait… I can… gimme a second…”

With a quiet grunt, the striped outfit disappeared in cool blue flames only to be replaced by the White Prince suit, and Akechi wriggled out of the jacket quickly to wrap it around the naked body in his arms. Yusuke winced; it was hard to endure any touch or lifting, but the warmth was definitely worth it, and he thankfully fell back into Akechi’s embrace, covered at last. Akechi went through his pockets, producing a couple of adhesive bandages and a Life Stone. Yusuke’s head rested on Goro’s shoulder.

“...You came for me,” he whispered, barely audible. Akechi stopped ripping the bandaid open and turned his vigilant stare to his boyfriend. 

“Of course I did,” he gathered him closer with one hand, “I’m not as good as you are with touching speeches, but I don’t imagine a reality in which I _didn’t_ jump in after you. It was fucking reckless, Yusuke! What did you think you could achieve on your own?! They could have killed you! They could have mutilated you, they could have… hurt you in ways you never even considered, they _have_ hurt you!” Goro’s hand trembled above Yusuke’s sheared hair, uncertain if he could touch him there. A tear slipped down Yusuke’s eye and Goro folded; he figured he should stop yelling not to make him cry any further and hugged him close once again. Yusuke wept silently into the crook of his neck, his shoulders trembling, hands dangling down his sides uselessly. Goro ran his fingers through the unevenly cut, wispy blue strands. 

“Ren will kill me,” Akechi shook his head.

“...It will… g-grow back,” Yusuke sobbed, “It will... grow back.”

“It’s not about the hair,” Goro sighed. “And of course it will grow back, don’t worry about it.”

“Go- Goro, Goro...” Yusuke shook in his arms, repeating his name, and Akechi hushed him gently, rocking back and forth. 

“Don’t cry. I’m here. I’m right here. I‘ll get you out of here, everything is going to be alright.”

“You won’t leave, right?” Yusuke whispered tearfully, trying to reciprocate Goro’s hold and failing. His hands were numb.

“I won’t leave your side.”

“N-no, not now… I know _now_ , but I mean… After.”

Yusuke was shivering so much; Goro placed the last bandage on his leg and wrapped both arms around him, pulling at the ends of his caped jacket to give him some more warmth. He had a feeling though that this tremble had nothing to do with the cold; another tear slipped from the tip of Yusuke’s nose straight on his collarbone.

“No, silly, I won’t leave,” he scoffed. “I’m not going to conveniently disappear just because your stupid friends don’t like me. You’re _mine_.”

Yusuke gave out an exhausted sound, a bit like a sigh, but definitely more wet. Goro felt him sink into his chest a bit more, his chapped lips closing weakly over the skin of his neck in a weak attempt of a kiss. 

“You belong to me, and to Ren. You’re ours. I’m not letting you go, ever, we are going to get him back and rebuild everything, we did it once, we will do it again. Do you understand me?” He asked fervently. He felt a weak nod against his shoulder. “I need you to say it out loud. I need to know you’re not giving up.”

“...I understand,” Yusuke whispered. “We’ll get Ren back. We’ll get our lives back.”

Goro muttered a spell and dropped the Life Bead on the floor to activate it. A wave of relief came, numbing the pain, easing Yusuke’s breath and restoring some more warmth into his leaden limbs; he felt he was able to clutch at Goro’s back now, as some of the ability to move returned.

“Can you summon your Thief outfit?” Goro asked. Yusuke shook his head; he was too drained even to attempt it. “They took your weapons?”

“Back in the first room.” Yusuke sighed. “Goro… you must be exhausted. You were fighting all the way. Are you hurt…?”

Akechi only smirked. “Don’t you worry about me. I feel great. I’m fucking _elated_.” His smile morphed for a second into this feral sneer from before, and Yusuke couldn’t help it but blink, unsure if he really saw this monstrous energy again or not. “Come on. We have to get going.”

Yusuke was just about to shamefully admit that he won’t be able to walk, but Goro didn’t ask for his opinion. The Black Mask returned in a flicker of flame, the serrated sword was lodged into a sheath on his back and Akechi got to his feet, sweeping Yusuke up into a safe cradle of his arms. The artist knew it would be useless to argue; Goro had already decided. He started walking, his step even and sound, carrying him through the dark dungeon corridor, wrapped up in the white jacket.

“Maybe you could sleep,” Yusuke heard. “I’ll try not to jostle you too much. Does it hurt?”

“No,” Yusuke lied; the bridal carry was putting some pressure on his whipped back, but he knew why Goro settled on it. Should they be suddenly attacked from behind, Yusuke would be shielded by Akechi’s own body.

“Okay.” Goro read through him easily. “Tell me if you want to stop for a moment.”

Yusuke closed his eyes. He didn’t want to see the dungeon corridor anymore, the mossy stones and endless row of cell doors, accidental bats clinging to the cave-like ceiling of the structure. The ugliness of it all, previously the least of his concerns, was starting to affect him now and he hid his face in the fold of the White Prince suit to block it out and fight with the rising dread. 

He focused only on the firm sound of a heartbeat under his cheek; any doubt, any uncertainty about how they would manage to get out of this situation was gently alleviated and deafened out by the steady, reliable thump in his ear, repeating itself without fail, without pause. Against all odds. After all, if anyone knew how to cheat death, it was Goro.

Yusuke nestled closer. The dungeon stones seemed to disappear, giving way to white tiles and transparent glass. He turned his eyes away.

They stepped into the passage made of light.

**Author's Note:**

> Note on chapter names: They will be named "Lab Cam" with a row of numbers, for example Lab Cam 4/3, which means Day 4, Prompt 3, or Lab Cam 7/1.2, so Day 7, Prompt 1&2\. Easy.


End file.
